


Cocoa Banana

by Dark_Eyed_Panda, Umehana



Series: Biking in Florida [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Romance, Bike, Bill Denbrough & Eddie Kaspbrak Are Best Friends, Canon Compliant, Established Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Established Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, F/M, Fix-It, Florida, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Intense Wrist Kissing, M/M, Mike Hanlon Deserves Love, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Seriously This Contains Almost Every RomCom Cliché We Know, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-11 09:35:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20543978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Eyed_Panda/pseuds/Dark_Eyed_Panda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umehana/pseuds/Umehana
Summary: Bill and Mike are best men at the wedding of Eddie and Richie.Post-Canon. Fluff.





	Cocoa Banana

**Author's Note:**

> I just had to write something about these adorable dorks after watching the movie.  
Thank you Umehana for cheering me up and being my lovely beta and co-pilot.  


* * *

Please join us to celebrate the wedding of

_ ** Mr. Edward Kaspbrak and Mr. Richard Tozier ** _

July 8th 2017

At 5:00 in the afternoon

Banana River Resort

Cocoa Beach, Brevard County, Florida

* * *

“Will you be my best man, Bill?” Eddie’s voice sounded exhausted over the phone. Something clattered in the background, people were shouting, talking over each other.

“Look, Eddie, I’m honored, I really am.” Bill hailed a taxi that just stopped down the road and got in, “But I have this meeting coming up with Warner Bros and I really think I can’t make it...”

“Please, Bill.” Eddie seemed to have finally found a quiet place where no noise could disturb them, but his voice was still all but calm. “We need you to be here. It wouldn’t feel right without you. We can’t ask Ben and Bev to be best men because the baby is almost due and…”

“Eddie…” Bill sighed, “Just…just let me think about it, okay? I have to sort some things out first. I’ll call you back, yeah?” He paused, waiting for Eddie to approve, “Good luck with the planning and all that. Don’t let Richie stress you out too much.”

“Of course not. Thanks, Bill. You’re the best.”

***

Bill got out of his taxi in Cocoa Beach, Florida on the evening of July 4th. Having just got there from a stormy Chicago, the humid warm breeze carrying the salty taste of the sea felt almost unreal.

He steadied himself, suitcase beside him and sunglasses already shielding his eyes from the sunlight.

He hadn’t been in Florida for ages. The last time, he recalled, had been when they were shooting the second act of “Joanna”. It later turned out to be quite the horrible movie and got one of the worst ratings out of all movie-adaptions of his books. It’d also been when…

Bill shook his head. Hopefully this time he could leave Florida with some good memories for a change.

Eddie picked up his call almost immediately, sounding even more sleep-deprived and stressed-out than Bill had imagined.

“Billy, that you? You just arrived? Fuck, I’m so so sorry Bill, I must’ve forgotten to set my alarm, I should’ve sent Rich to pick you up…”

“It’s all good, Eddie. I’m in my hotel room already, wasn’t hard to find.” Bill smiled and tried to make his voice sound as reassuring as possible. He knew first-hand how stressful wedding planning could be. He set his suitcase aside and sat down on the bed, untying his shoelaces as he held his phone between his shoulder and ear. “No worries, I’ll come ‘round in about half an hour.”

“Yes. Yes, that’d be great,” Eddie said.

Bill hung up and rolled his shoulders, relishing the cracking sound. He had only slept for four hours the previous night, lying awake in his bed and staring up at the ceiling while his thoughts were like a hurricane swirling in his mind. He had cancelled the meeting with Warner Bros on Monday or rather: he had managed to cancel the former date and set up a new one after a very long and rather unpleasant phone call. Then he’d booked the flight to Florida and called Eddie to confirm his attendance. Eddie had sounded immensely relieved, thanked him profusely and told him that Mike was going to be Richie’s best man.

Mike. Of course. He should have known. Who else would it be?

Bill had stared up at the ceiling until 3am, when his eyelids had given in and finally fallen shut.

Eddie was standing in the doorway and talking insistently on the phone. He was dressed in a white T-shirt and black pants, his hair a bit longer than Bill remembered, curling slightly at the ends. Bill looked at him for a few seconds, deciding if he should wait until Eddie saw him or make himself noticed. He went with the latter and went to tap him on the shoulder. Eddie flinched and looked like he would have almost fainted. Bill smiled apologetically, maybe he should have waited after all.

Eddie fished his inhaler out of his pocket with fumbling fingers and took a deep breath. He mouthed a silent apology towards Bill and turned back to his phone call.

“No, Rich, you can’t just put banana balloons everywhere.” He was waving his hands, clearly agitated. Bill nearly snorted seeing the relationship of his friends really hadn’t changed that much as Eddie went on, “Yes, I get the joke, Banana River, banana balloons, gay wedding, very funny…. No! End of discussion! Where are you, anyways? Move your ass and come here. Bill’s just arrived.”

“Sorry about that.” Eddie turned to Bill once he’d ended the call, “But Rich always comes up with those new _clever_ ideas that are simply impossible to organize and completely unnecessary as well!”

“No need to apologize,” Bill told him with a reassuring clap to the shoulder, “I think we both know that you shouldn’t let Richie have his way unless you want something either weird or crazy, or both.”

Eddie cracked a nervous smile. He was silent for a second and then clasped his hands together.

“Okay. Let me show you around.”

It might be wrong to say that Eddie was in his element for he looked as if he could die from a panic attack at any second now. But he certainly seemed to be enjoying himself, commanding the staff around, telling them to move decoration from here to there and back again, while simultaneously explaining the whole concept to Bill. Bill thought about his own wedding nine years ago and realized how plain it had been compared to what was going to happen four days from now.

“…and then we eat the cake. That’s all.” Eddie pointed at a table on the lawn.

“It’s going to be a brilliant wedding, Eddie,” said Bill, meaning it wholeheartedly.

Eddie looked at him, suddenly worried. “You really think it’s gonna work?”

“Yes of course, man. You have everything so thoroughly planned, of course it’s gonna work.” Bill patted him on the shoulder and chuckled, “Well and if anything does go wrong, it’s definitely Richie’s fault. If that’s any consolation.”

“_Who_ said _what’s_ my fault?!” A high voice shouted from behind.

Bill turned. “Richie! Long time no see!”

Richie smirked his usual smirk and hugged him tightly. “Whoa, you look fine, man. I heard your new book just came out and the ending didn’t suck that much this time, eh?”

Bill glared at him good-humoredly. “I don’t know whether I should be more disappointed of the fact that you think all my endings suck or that you haven’t read my new book yet,” he joked.

“This Spaghetti right here read it and spoiled the whole fucking book.” Richie pulled a face, “Well whose fault is it now, huh?”

Eddie looked at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t know you were home already! I was talking to Ben, no one asked you to eavesdrop on my phone calls!”

“Eavesdrop?! You were shouting ‘Kevin died’ across the whole house, I heard you on the second floor!”

“Oh shut up, I definitely wasn’t shouting.”

“Guys.” Bill tried, looking both desperately and fondly at the two of them.

“Yes, yes, you were. And then you went on with _how_ he died and how Simon died and Emma died -”

Bill lifted his hands in defeat. “Guys, listen. It’s 7 o’clock and I’m starving. How about I just grab something to eat and you continue your fight over the ending of my book while I’m _away_?”

Eddie opened his mouth and tried to say something, most probably an apology laced with a good tinge of saltiness towards Richie, when another familiar voice came from behind.

“Did I miss something?”

All three of them turned around and saw Mike Hanlon standing there, suitcase still in hand.

Richie was the first one to react. “Hey Mike! Looking great, man! You just got off the plane?”

“That's right, thanks. Hello Richie, Eddie. Bill.” Mike nodded at them, dropping his luggage and hugging each of them tightly.

Mike still looked exactly the same like when they’d parted in Derry. He was wearing an olive T-shirt that showed off his broad shoulders just perfectly. His smile was like all the warm colors of the setting sun outside the window. He even sounded warm - it had been some time since their last call, but Bill remembered his tone quite vividly. It was reassuring, seeing him so open, laughing softly at Eddie who was trying to explain what they had been fussing about.

“I’d say we go eat dinner first,” said Richie, bringing Bill back from his musings, “Eds and I had found this really good seafood place just down the road. They make such a good paella; I could eat that every day for the rest of my life.”

It turned out that Richie for once hadn’t exaggerated. The food tasted fantastic and the cocktails were also top quality. In honor of Cocoa Beach and the Banana River, Bill indulged himself especially in the Cocoa Banana, sipping the almost disgustingly sweet cocktail relishingly. They spent the evening in a pleasant atmosphere, peacefully bantering out in the open and watching the sun slowly being swallowed by the horizon.

Later that night, Eddie and Richie walked Mike and Bill back to the hotel where, as they found out, they both were staying on the same floor, giggling and arguing along the way.

Bill, clearly more than a little tipsy, fumbled around with his card and simply couldn’t pull the door open at the right time. The third time he tried and failed miserably, Mike leaned forward and helped him push down the handle. Bill stumbled into the room and switched on the lights. He threw himself on the bed and sighed heavily. Mike stood in the doorway, leaning against it with one shoulder, as if to decide whether he should be amused or feel concerned about his friend.

“You alright, Bill?” Mike asked finally.

“Yeah. It’s just…It’s just I m-might had a couple of drinks too much.” Bill hated that his stutter always came back once he got drunk, “I’ll just l-lie down and get, get some sleep.”

“Okay.” Mike still looked a bit worried, but he agreed, “Just call me if there’s something you need, anything, yeah?”

“Yeah, will do. Good night, Mike.”

“Night, Bill.”

The next two days passed in the blink of an eye and soon they found themselves on the night of the bachelor party. In the days before Bill and Mike had met up in various cafés and carefully planned the last evening of Eddie’s and Richie’s bachelor existence. They had decided pretty soon to go against tradition and celebrate with both grooms together rather than separately, for the Loser’s Club hadn’t been united since the last time in Derry and all of them agreed to cherish an opportunity like that. Ben and Bev arrived in the afternoon the same day, Bev looking gorgeous if a little worn from the journey in her flower dress and Ben every inch like the proud dad-to-be he was.

The six of them met up at the club Mike and Bill had decided on starting their booze-cruise, laughing, joking and greeting each other thoroughly, overjoyed to be united again after such a long time. The first toast was to Stanley, whom Bill and Mike reserved a seat for. The second was to Eddie and Richie, the third to Ben and Bev’s unborn baby girl. “Let’s name her Sonia after Eddie’s mom,” joked Richie and earned himself an elbow to the ribs from Eddie.

The evening went on, they strolled around to the second and the third pub. Alcohol went down their throats and, in the end, everyone except for Bev, who only drank ginger ale and Ben, who had volunteered to drive them back with his rental car, was so drunk that they could barely remember their own name. All in all, everything a successful bachelor party strives to be.

Ben dropped Eddie and Richie off at their hotel first for it was clear they had to get a room as fast as possible. Then he drove Mike and Bill to their place.

“Thank you, B-Ben, Bev.” Bill managed to remember his manners when Ben, ever the reliable designated driver, went back to the car.

“Oh, no need for that, Bill. You two should get some rest. Tomorrow’s the big day, best men. Can’t have you half-dead and hungover. Just make sure to actually sleep!” Bev winked and waved them off from the front passenger seat.

“Yeah. See you tom-tomorrow, then.” Bill nodded, took a step backwards and almost stumbled over his own feet in the process. He then felt a firm grip around his arm, holding him in place and realized it was Mike steadying him.

“It’s actually been ‘today’ already for some time.” Bev laughed as they pulled off.

“Good night, Bev! Night, Ben!” Mike shouted, just in time before the car turned the corner and disappeared in the night.

Bill felt how the alcohol rushed up his cheeks and slowly ate his brain away. His whole body was going numb except for the spot on his left arm where Mike’s hand was still keeping him from collapsing or falling asleep in the middle of a hotel parking lot.

“Can you walk?” Mike asked. Bill tilted his head and found himself looking straight into Mike’s eyes. He quickly dropped his gaze as he noticed himself staring and gave an unintelligible sound that was probably meant to be a yes.

Mike in turn loosened the grip on his arm but kept his hand on him as they walked into the hotel. The girl in the lobby gave them a knowing look but didn’t comment on their obviously disheveled and tipsy state.

The elevator was playing “Fly Me To The Moon”.

Bill looked up and saw himself in the mirror, cheeks flushed, eyes unfocused, floppy brown hair a mess. Mike looked way better, tapping his feet unconsciously to the rhythm, for the alcohol didn’t seem to affect his appearance and manner at all.

“Are you -” Bill began, but stopped abruptly mid-sentence.

Mike blinked, “Yeah?”

“N-Nothing,” Bill said, “God. I’m fucking wasted.” He drove his hand through his hair.

“So am I.” Mike laughed, “Say, what were you about to ask me?”

“Well you cer-certainly don’t, don’t look wasted,” Bill said, “And it’s nothing. I’ve already f-forgotten.”

Mike lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t push him.

The elevator went “ding” and opened.

Bill, like the first time they'd gone back to the hotel together, couldn’t manage to open his door. But this time Mike simply took the key card from him and pushed the door open with an amused smile at Bill. The smaller man could hear and see quite clearly, but didn’t seem to have control over his movements whatsoever. It was as if his soul was floating next to his body rather than in it, like a mere observer, watching him embarrass himself by first turning on the bathroom lights, then the ventilator and then, finally, the ceiling light.

Mike stood silently in the doorframe, though a slight smile never left his lips.

Bill turned back and grinned wearily, suddenly feeling a headache coming on, “Good night, Mikey. And thanks for y’know, the door.”

Mike stared at him for a few seconds as if he wanted to say something important.

“Sleep well, Bill,” he finally said instead and gently closed the door after him when he turned and walked back to his own room.

Bill dropped on his bed like a dead man. It took him at least a minute to undo his shoe laces and he didn’t even bother to put the shoes in the corner, kicking them off where he was. He would definitely stumble over them the next morning but right now he couldn’t care less. He also didn’t bother to change into his pajamas. Instead he just pulled one corner of the blanket over his body and closed his eyes.

He refused to think about anything but the warmth surrounding him and went straight off to sleep.

His alarm went off at 8am the next morning. Bill rubbed his eyes and saw the sunlight prying its way through the chinks of the curtains.

Bill struggled to get on his feet. His head felt as if he had just had a combination of a stroke, a migraine and meningitis. He cursed and went to take a shower. Two hangovers - most likely to be followed by a third today - in a week really did nothing good for his 41-year-old body. Back at college it seemed that he could get and be drunk for days on end and then go to class the following day as if nothing had happened. Well, that definitely wasn’t the case these days.

He barely remembered last night. Only flashes of people cheering and laughing danced in his mind, a mixture of vivid lights and colors, while loud music still seemed to be drumming in his ears.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when he met Mike downstairs at breakfast. The taller man was standing in front of a table full of cereal and couldn’t decide which one to choose.

“Morning, Bill!” Mike greeted him first, stepping aside to give him access to the cereal too.

“Good morning, Mike.” Bill filled his own bowl with Coco Pops and added some milk, “Did you sleep well last night?”

Mike nodded. “Despite only managing about 5 hours to do so, I’d say yes. How about you?”

“You’ve stolen my answer,” Bill said, “Have you prepared your speech already?”

Mike looked at him, but he didn’t answer the question. Instead he said, “Tell me if I’m wrong, but you seemed a bit off the past couple of days.”

Bill found himself caught off guard. He blinked and smiled, confused at the sudden change from small talk, “How come you find that?”

“Well, firstly, you’ve been drinking more than you should.”

“I’ve had exactly the same amount as you had yesterday,” Bill said defensively. He put a glass of orange juice on his tablet.

“And we both know that’s more than your liver can manage.”

“Should I feel offended now?” Bill laughed. It came out more like a nervous huff than anything.

“Bill.” A frown appeared on Mike’s forehead, “You know you can tell me whatever it is that’s on your mind. I haven’t heard from you in some time, you got me worried, man.”

“It’s nothing, really.” Bill waited for Mike to take his espresso and both of them walked with their trays towards an empty table near the window.

They ate their breakfast in silence.

But before they finished their last bite, Bill suddenly heard himself speak up. “I got a… I got a d-divorce.”

Mike seemed stunned by his words.

“Oh,” he said a few seconds later, “Oh God. Bill, I’m so sorry.”

Bill found it much easier to talk, now that he made the first step and had quite literally jumped into the cold water. The emotions and frustrations he had concealed for almost a week just all flowed out like a stream out of a broken dam.

“Don’t be,” he said bitterly, still not looking at Mike, “She had an affair with the director of ‘Attic Room’. It was going on for months already. I hadn’t noticed since I was so occupied with the new movie-adaption they wanted me to supervise the script for,” he paused shortly and went on, “I found out they were having sex in our bedroom, you know? On my bed.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. I said I wanted a divorce and she agreed. We were married for nine years. Nine fucking years. She packed her things and left right after we got the papers. I just came out of the court when Eddie called and asked me to be his best man. It was the most satirical… Whatever. I was a complete dick and didn’t want to go. I almost turned him down.”

“Bill, it’s not your fault.”

“I know. I know it’s not my fucking fault.” Bill nearly knocked over his orange juice, “But I guess I still felt angry and disappointed and hollow inside. I kept it to myself because I didn’t want Eddie and Richie to know, still don’t. I can’t possibly let anything negative disturb their big day, especially not something like this.”

“I get it, Bill.” Mike’s voice was calm and gentle, as was his hand that rested on Bill’s, holding them in place so they wouldn’t tremble, “But I’m glad you decided to confide in me. It means a lot, so thank you.”

“Of course I w-would conf-fide in you,” Bill stammered and felt his face flushing. There was no one he would rather trust with something like this.

Thank God, Mike didn’t seem to notice his sudden shift in mood, “Okay, so from now on you just focus on the wedding and stop trying to drink your sorrows away. The next time I see you with a Cocoa Banana I will personally pour it down the drain.”

“Yeah.” Bill smiled sheepishly, “Sounds good to me.”

After breakfast, they went to the resort and found almost everything set up neatly already. Eddie was standing in the middle of the room, talking to the chef while Richie was sitting at the table working through the guest book.

“Hi Eddie, is there anything for us to do?” Bill asked as he and Mike approached them.

“You could help me memorize all these relative’s names and faces. Eddie, say, darling, why do you have such a huge family?” Richie shouted from the back, obviously frustrated by his task.

“Shut up, Richard.”

“Well, I can take a look,” Mike said, “I’m pretty good with faces.”

They both eventually ended up working through the long list of aunts and cousins that were coming to the wedding alongside a very desperate Richie.

“They all look the same to me, Eds,” Richie said when Eddie came back from the kitchen an hour later, “Dark hair, dark eyes, same height, they’re like clones. I’m forty-one, Eds, my memory equals that of a goldfish.”

“I gave you that list a week ago.” Eddie pointed at him accusingly, “Well, you could’ve just started earlier.”

“I tried. You were distracting me.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean -” Eddie blushed and rushed out of the room.

They had Chinese takeaway for lunch and helped with the last few adjustments. At 5 pm, the guests began to show up. Bev and Ben were of course the first to arrive, followed by Richie’s father. He was in his late sixties and a serious looking but genuinely kind man that made one wonder where Richie had gotten his big mouth from. Eddie’s aunts and uncles came with their children and grandchildren, since it was summer and therefore holiday season. All the kids were dressed up and went running towards the table with sweets once they’d halfheartedly greeted everyone at the strict request of their parents. There were also some of Eddie’s colleagues and Richie’s staff from his show who had managed to come. Stan’s wife Patricia came as well and was greeted and hugged welcomingly by all the Losers. At 6:30, the hall was filled with people.

After a moment of watching the scene and looking positively horrified, Eddie pulled Bill aside and asked him if he could have a word. Bill nodded and made sure that Mike and Richie were able to handle the situation before Eddie dragged him into the dressing room.

The second the doors were closed, Eddie grabbed his inhaler and took in a long, shaky breath. Bill came to his side and stroked Eddies back as he trembled.

“Hey, hey. Calm down, Eddie. Everything’s gonna be alright.” Bill guided him to sit down. He put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly.

Eddie looked at him with watery eyes. “I’ve been thinking about the worst things the last couple of days, Bill. I barely slept. What if this all is a big mistake? What if it doesn’t last? What if he actually doesn’t want to marry me? You know the risk of divorce is-”

“Eddie, Richie proposed to you,” Bill said, “Of course he wants to marry you.”

“But that was 4 months ago! What if he’d changed his mind? What if he’s just doing this now because he feels obligated?”

“Eddie,” Bill sighed, “How long have you and Richie known each other?”

“Same as we’ve known each other, since first grade.”

“And how long has he been in love with you?”

“Well, he told me that it began in third grade.”

“That’s 32 years, Eddie.”

“But what if -”

“32 years. You really think that the Richard Tozier we know would walk away on your wedding day after being in love with you for _32 years_?”

Eddie took a deep breath from his inhaler again.

“Yeah. You’re right. He wouldn’t.”

“Exactly. And if he does, I will beat up his trashy ass before you can even blink.”

“Thank you, Bill.”

“Come here, Eds.” Bill pulled Eddie into a hug, “It’s your big day. Everything’s going to be perfect. We’re all so, so happy for you two. Now put on a big smile and be the lovebird that’s going to get married.”

The wedding was perfect.

They’d written letters to each other they couldn’t even finish reading because both of them started crying mid-letter.

They exchanged rings and promises and kisses. All guests were cheering and applauding and wishing them the best.

They threw a stuffed microphone toy instead of a bouquet and some little boy in the crowd caught it. He was extremely happy when he was told that he could keep it, even if everyone seriously doubted that he would be the one getting married next.

It had been a small but pleasant tumult in between when Richie suddenly summoned hundreds of banana-shaped balloons out of nowhere and asked everyone to write their wishes on it. Eddie was furious at first, but quickly forgave Richie after he’d seen what his wish had been.

“Well we ought to connect balloons to something positive, right?” Richie held Eddie’s hand as they watched the balloons float towards the sun, “Certainly not that ‘beep, beep’ shit anymore.”

“What have you written as a wish?” Bev asked.

“It won’t come true if I tell you.” Richie grinned and looked at Eddie, who’s eyes were still a bit red and puffy from all the crying.

“You still believe in that?” Bev teased, “Well I wished that our baby will grow up to be healthy and happy.”

“She surely will,” Eddie said, “As long as you keep Richie away from her. He’s bad influence.”

“What was that, Spaghetti?” Richie exclaimed, “If that’s so, you’ve been influenced by me so badly, seeing you’re with me all day, you should stay away from her too.”

“That’s because I happen to be the only person in the world that can put up with your bullshit 24/7.”

“Yeah, I love you too, Eds.” And Richie smiled an unusually open and honest smile that made Eddie start sniffling again.

Later that evening, when the sun had begun to set and the sky became a swirling mass of rose and violet, Bill was standing alone at a table. He had a glass of champagne in one hand and a plate of half-eaten chocolate cake in front of him, forgotten as he stared into the distance.

“It all went well, at last.” Mike’s voice rose from behind him. Bill turned around a bit startled and saw the other best man walking towards him in his gorgeous white suit that was colored with a red tinge by the evening glow. 

“Yeah, Richie even remembered half the relative’s names. Thanks to you.” Bill smiled at him and took a sip of his champagne.

Mike let out a content laugh, “Yeah, thanks to us. I’d call that an achievement.” He put his glass on the table and came to stand opposite Bill.

They fell silent. Bill poked at the chocolate cake with his small pastry fork and took another sip of his champagne. Richie had chosen a nice champagne to serve.

Bill suddenly felt resentful to be here. The people, the noise, the warmth, even the salty smell of the sea suddenly seemed too much. And then there was Mike standing lean and tall in that suit of his, staring at him -

Staring at him?

“Um, Mike?” Bill lifted his champagne with slightly shaky hands. There was nothing left in the glass. Shit.

“You look pale.” Mike studied his face with a concerned frown and continued, “Mind if we take a walk?”

“We should ask Eddie and Richie first -”

“I’ve asked them already. They’ve given me permission to abduct you for a few.”

Bill drew in a deep breath.

“Okay.”

They went down the road from the resort and arrived shortly after at the beach. They both took off their shoes and socks, leaving them near the path where they would find them again. The white sand felt warm and soft under their feet. In the distance, the sun was drawing a golden line on the tranquil waters of the Atlantic Ocean. It was almost too beautiful and calm a scenery to disturb it by speaking, but after a while of walking silently next to each other, they fell into an easy conversation.

They chatted about sport, headlines, movies, about the wedding and the time after they’d parted in Derry. After saying goodbye, they had made it an habit to call on each other from time to time. First it was to keep them from forgetting what happened again. Later, when it was clear that things were different from the last time, they just spoke for the sake of it. 

And how he’d missed it. Bill always reveled in their conversations, finding Mike to be a good listener and an even better conversationalist once he was immersed in one topic. But just over the last weeks, the calls had been getting fewer and Bill himself was entirely to blame for that. It had been too much work, the script revising and then - Audra. Bill remembered their conversation at the breakfast table.

“When I told you about my divorce this morning -”

“It’s alright, Bill. You don’t have to recall it if it hurts you.”

“No, Mike, that’s not the point,” Bill said hastily, “That’s not - I didn’t tell you the truth when I said I was upset that m-my wife was having an affair. Quite the opposite, I felt, well, relieved that she did.”

Mike looked at him in surprise but didn’t say anything. Instead he waited for Bill to continue, so he did, a bit calmer, eyes avoiding Mike and fixing on the waves that broke upon the shore.

“Our relationship had been falling apart ever since I got back from Derry last year. I’ve been busy writing my novel and oftentimes stayed in my study all day. She was away filming, first in Argentina, then in the UK. We barely saw each other, barely talked at all. I’ve been quite a horrible husband, hell, I haven’t even called her that often. And I’ve- well I’ve met someone myself.”

“Oh.” Mike’s voice sounded like a mixture of confusion, surprise and… was there disappointment? Bill couldn’t bring himself to look at him and what he may find in his expression.

_Don’t be stupid, William Denbrough, he thinks of you as a friend, nothing more._

“I was happy to see that someone was able give her what I knew I no longer could. However, at the same time I felt immensely relieved because her affair put me in a positive light, as if I had stayed loyal and had been betrayed by her. But that’s just not true, because my feelings belonged to someone else already, maybe even before _her_ affair had even started. What she did simply gave me an excuse for ending our marriage. And I hate myself for that. Because it was not just her, but I - I just hadn’t the guts to...”

Mike’s hand rested on his shoulder, a soothing and comforting weight.

“Bill, you don’t have to blame yourself for that. It’s a natural thing to fall in and out of love. It happened and can’t be changed anyway. In the end, now you’re free to take the chance to approach your girl and start a new life with her.”

“Oh, um.” Bill hesitated at the suggestion, “It’s not, well, i-it’s actually a guy.”

“Oh.” There was this unreadable response again. Bill wanted to bury himself deep in a hole in the sand and never come out again.

“I mean, you d-don’t have a p-problem with that, right?” he blinked nervously.

“What? No!” Mike looked at him incredulously and laughed, “Bill, we’ve literally been best men at a gay wedding not even two hours ago,” he paused, “Besides, I’m more into guys myself anyways.”

“Oh, um.” Bill felt a small flicker of hope suddenly trying to escape the cage of his heart, “Well, let’s not talk about my m-miserable love life the whole time. How about you?”

Mike seemed uneasy, bitter even, for a mere second. “Well… There’s no story I can tell you, really. A completely blank page.”

“No way!” Bill didn’t believe him, as much as he wanted to do, “How can this-” He gestured at Mike’s everything, “Not have a partner?”

“I guess we can call it an unfortunate development of circumstance?” Mike said with a wry smile, “I kept waiting for the right moment and eventually missed all my chances.”

Bill felt the grip on his shoulder tighten slightly and covered Mike’s hand with his own. He wanted to guide it to his lips, kiss his fingers and palm and every inch of skin he could reach, but he dared not.

He’d known this man for 28 years. They’d been through life and death and it was truly a miracle that they were still here today, breathing, talking and alive.

They weren’t young anymore. They didn’t have their whole life ahead of them like they once had. After all what he’d already lost, he couldn’t even bear the thought of losing Mike as well.

But deep down, he also couldn’t help to feel the flicker of hope slowly becoming a small flame, burning and biting at the hollows of his chest. He tried to shake that feeling off, to suppress it and hide it and bury it, but found it instead coming back to him with full force.

Someday soon, he knew, it would eventually become a blazing fire that he wouldn’t know how to fight against. But for now, he would be able to conceal it, he had to.

So he walked silently until the last sunrays were devoured by the dark and at last they went back to the wedding.

It was already past midnight when they got back to the hotel. The girl in the lobby spotted them right away and called, “Mr. Denbrough?”.

Bill stopped and said, “Yes?”

“You’re Mr. Denbrough from room 307?” The girl repeated as Bill and Mike walked towards her desk.

“Yes, I am.”

“We are terribly sorry, Mr. Denbrough,” the girl said, looking at him with an apologetic frown, “but the pipes in 407 were blocked and that led to a flooding of your room. We tried to contact you after it happened, but...”

“Shit, shit ... sorry.” Bill looked at his watch. It was nearly 1am. He’d been mostly standing for 12 hours; he could barely walk. “Never mind. Let me j-just take another room, then.”

The girl shifted awkwardly on her swivel chair, appearing more stressed by the second. “Um, unfortunately there are no free rooms left, Mr. Denbrough. I am really sorry.”

“Damn,” Bill cursed and turned to Mike, “Okay. I guess I’ll just g-get my things and try my luck at B-Ben and Bev’s hotel.”

“Or you can stay in my room,” Mike suggested and looked at the girl, “You can add a bed, right?”

“Oh, yes, yes, we could do that.”

“No, I w-wouldn’t trouble you. You have to get some well-deserved rest yourself.” Bill shook his head, “It’s not a long walk, it’s j-just around the corner.”

“As if I’d let you walk another 2 miles to get a room when you can just as well stay in mine,” Mike insisted, “You take my bed, end of discussion.”

“I’ll tell the staff to bring up the bed.” The girl picked up the phone looking relieved, “You’re… Mr. Hanlon from 301?”

“That’s right.” Mike then turned to Bill, who opened his mouth to say something. “And no. As I’ve said, end of discussion.”

“Thank you, Mike.” Bill shot him a grateful look, then turned around and asked the girl where his suitcase was.

“You can find your luggage in the storage room over there, unfortunately your suitcase got wet, but we can wash your belongings for you in the washing room and dry clean your suitcase as well. Again, we apologize for this inconvenience.”

Bill groaned quietly. Thank God he kept his important things in his briefcase that he carried around all the time. Aloud he said, “Yes, I would like that. I guess they won’t be dry by tomorrow morning?" 

The girl behind the counter shook her head. He nodded understandingly, then hurried to the storage room and took out the dirty clothes for the hotel staff to wash and the few toiletries he would need. He then followed Mike to his room. The staff who’d brought the bed was just coming out and apologized again and wished them a pleasant night. Bill felt himself blush like a schoolgirl at the suggestion of that sentence.

Mike’s room was well-kept and clean, his pajamas lying neatly folded on his bed, his suitcase closed and standing in the corner.

Mike walked straight towards the added bed.

“Wait. No, Mike, I’ll take that bed.” Bill took a quick step forward, “I can’t possibly let you -”

But Mike already started taking off his T-shirt. Bill couldn’t finish his sentence as he stared at Mike’s chest and his eyes traced the dips and lines of his muscles.

“I can’t p-possibly steal your bed,” he was stunned at the fact that he’d found his voice again.

“You should.” Mike smiled and Bill felt an urge to grab his own heart to keep it from beating so loudly, “You told me once you preferred softer beds. Well this one here certainly doesn’t look soft. I don’t mind, I could even sleep on the floor quite comfortably.”

“I’m really sorry, Mike. I’ll d-definitely make up for this, I p-promise,” Bill stammered. He instantly dropped his gaze and turned to open his briefcase to busy himself with _something_ as Mike started to unbuckle his belt.

“Mind if I use the bathroom first?” Mike asked from behind, “I got you one of my T-shirts to sleep in, if that’s okay.”

“Of course, thanks.” Bill struggled with the password of his briefcase. What was it again? Right. Georgie’s birthday. 0918. He felt beyond idiotic.

He ducked his head over the opened briefcase as Mike squeezed past him and closed the bathroom door behind him.

Bill sighed and changed into the T-shirt Mike laid out for him. Pulling it over his head, he couldn’t help but notice the scent. Mike’s scent. It smelled like sunshine, orange and sandalwood and just like...Mike. He rolled his eyes at himself, but couldn’t help a small grin that crept onto his lips. He pinched himself in the arm to remind himself to stay calm and collected. To appear busy, he took out his phone to check his inbox when Mike came out of the bathroom. Quickly he went to brush his teeth and wash his face whilst trying to ignore Mike shuffling around in the main room. When he came out, he noticed that Mike was already lying on the makeshift bed, so he turned off the ceiling light before he himself went to lay down too.

“Good night, Bill,” hummed Mike, his voice sounding like a lullaby to Bill’s ears.

“Good night, Mike,” he said and hoped Mike wouldn’t notice his rapidly beating heart.

A few seconds later, after a lot of shifting uncomfortably on the mattress, Bill murmured, “Mikey? You still awake?”

“Hmm.”

Bill didn’t know if it was the darkness loosening his tongue, the sleepiness, the faint hum of alcohol in him or just the smell of Mike surrounding his body and seeping into his mind - maybe it was all of it. Anyways, he heard himself saying, “You really don’t have a boyfriend?”

“No,” Mike answered softly.

“Would you - would you mind if I asked, asked y-you out?”

Mike went silent. _God_ _no_, Bill thought, _there you go_, _Denbrough_, _you’ve finally destroyed everything_.

Then he heard Mike’s voice again, deeper this time, “I thought you were in love with - oh.”

“I’ve f-fallen for you l-last year. I couldn’t, couldn’t tell you, I-I was afraid t-that you’d f-freak out. Or that you simply d-didn’t feel the same and w-would stop calling m-me.”, Bill stuttered so severely now that he could barely say a whole sentence, “I was, I was afraid that -”

He heard a sound of blankets shifting and stopped mid-sentence.

Then he suddenly felt something warm cupping his cheek and recognized it as Mike’s hand.

“Mikey?” Bill let out a surprised gasp, “W-What-”

Mike knelt next to the bed, next to Bill’s lying form and shook his head gently at him. His thumb stroked Bill’s cheek with a soft reverence that made his chest ache. His other hand grasped Bill’s, intertwining their fingers and drawing small circles on the back as Bill shed a tear he didn’t feel coming on. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, apologize for acting like such a wuss, but Mike only shushed him and pressed soft open-mouthed kisses to his wrist, his fingers, the back of his hand. 

The stillness of the moment was only broken when Bill choked back a sob and Mike, instead of retreating, sat up and gathered Bill in his arms. He didn’t know how long they sat there, just hugging and breathing with each other. When Bill finally loosened the tight embrace only to rest his forehead against Mike’s, he asked himself when he last felt like this, if he’d ever even felt like this. And finally he couldn’t take it any longer, the soft lingering touches, the gentle reassurances whispered from Mike’s lips and he kissed him.

Their lips felt warm against each other and Bill was mesmerized just how easy it all seemed, their bodies fitting together as if they had never done anything else. He grew bolder, one hand toying at the seam of Mike’s shirt and the other cradling the back of his neck, caressing the thick dark curls there. He sighed as Mike swiped his tongue along the bottom line of his lips and when he opened them and it all threatened to become too much, they separated, gasping for air, resting their foreheads against each other as they did before.

“Good God,” Mike said after they’d pulled apart, tracing Bill’s jawline with one trembling hand, “Tell me I’m not dreaming.”

“Tell m-me I’m, I’m not dreaming,” answered Bill, eloquently as ever mirroring Mike.

“Well we can’t both be dreaming, right?”

“I g-guess not.”

It grew quiet again, the silence in the dark room only disrupted by the shuffling noise the blanket made when Bill tried to steady himself, hands resting on Mike’s legs. He looked up as Mike took one of them again, guiding it to his face, nosing along his wrist and kissing the spot just where the veins were most visible. His next words were muted but Bill heard them as though he had shouted them from the top of his lungs.

“I love you, Bill,” Mike said, voice low and heavy with emotion, “I do. I knew I loved you the moment I saw you again at the restaurant after all those years.”

Bill sat up straighter, looking at the man in front of him in awe. The moon outside their window was illuminating his face dimly. Mike was half-kneeling on the bed before him, holding one hand in his and looking at him with a smile that carried so much fondness, Bill felt his throat tighten again. His face felt hot and he was thankful that the night covered his blush. He felt the need to say something, so when he opened his mouth this time, he spoke but it came out barely a whisper.

“Mikey, me too. I felt it when we met in Derry, there was that s-sense of…Oh God.” He took a deep breath, “I still can’t believe this really is happening.”

“Neither can I.”

Bill glanced at Mike who almost looked otherworldly in the moonlight and felt the tight grip around his heart dissolve when he realized that he was allowed to look at him, to touch him. Mike returned his gaze and carded a hand through Bill’s hair as if he was entirely lost in thought himself. Then the hands returned to hold his cheeks and this time it was Bill who was kissed. He relished in the feeling of being held and after a short eternity of trading soft kisses and touches he let himself fall back on the bed and pulled Mike down with him.

They silently lay next to each other, connected through their tangled limbs, arms and shoulders touching and hands mapping the other. Bill’s heart raced at the thought of having Mike so close to him and the warmth he felt radiating off of him made him dizzy. It was almost bizarre to have someone lying next to him, touching him, as he had slept alone for quite a while now, different bedrooms separating him and his now ex-wife.

“It’s nice,” he murmured.

“Hm?”

“Not to be alone in bed. Being in bed with you.”

Mike let out a content chuckle.

“It makes me not want to go back home,” Bill continued, closing his eyes to help him remember just the feeling of being here, “...back to my cold and lonely house.”

Mike turned towards him, making Bill look up at him again, “You know, I’ve been in Winter Park last week and was looking for houses.”

“Are you -”

“That’s right. Remember how I’ve always wanted to move to Florida when I was little?”

Bill smiled and said, “Yeah, you didn’t even know why.”

Mike looked at him earnestly, “You can stay here, you know? In Florida. With me.”

Bill opened and closed his mouth several times, stunned. “Mike, I -”

“You don’t have to, of course. I mean you’ve got a life in Chicago.”

“Mike, I’d love to.”

This time it was Mike who looked surprised. “For real?” He asked.

“Yeah. Mike, I’m an author. I can do my writing everywhere. Besides, I’ve never really had a ‘life’ in Chicago.” Bill smiled at him and repeated, “I’d love to stay in Florida with you.”

“That’s great.” Mike brushed a straying strand of hair from his forehead and kissed him there sleepily, “I love you, Bill.”

“I love you too, Mikey.” Bill nuzzled a bit more into his chest and fell asleep, feeling Mike’s arms holding him even tighter.

Waking up to the warmth of Mike’s body, solid and strong next to his was something that Bill would certainly like to experience every day. He looked at Mike’s sleeping face and found he couldn’t tear his eyes away. For a while he was content just lying there and watching the other man’s chest rise and fall with the sound of breathing slowed by sleep. Then watching wasn’t enough and Bill reached out to him, running his fingers delicately over the wrinkles on his forehead.

Mike woke up shortly after, sleepily blinking up at him.

“Morning, Bill,” He rumbled, his voice rough.

“Good morning, Mikey.”

“What time is it?” Mike leaned over him to the desk and took a look at the alarm clock, “Whoa, it’s 10:30 already. Didn’t we want to meet up with the others at 11 for brunch?”

“It’s 10:30?” Bill kicked his blankets aside and sat up, “Damn, we’re gonna be late.”

But even as they hurried to get dressed and ready, Bill couldn’t bring himself to care much. Not with the way Mike looked at him as Bill put on a pair of his pants and the T-shirt Mike had given him the night before. With well over eight inches height difference it wasn’t surprising Bill had to cuff the legs of the pants. The T-shirt was loose as well, hanging slightly off his shoulders. But then again, Bill couldn’t care less.

Despite hurrying, they still arrived at the café 15 minutes too late. Everyone else was waiting already, chatting away about all the world and his brother.

“Ah, there they are!” Richie waved as he spotted them and looked Bill up and down suspiciously, “Couldn’t find your own clothes, Big Bill?”

“Well my room was flooded.” Bill shrugged, desperately fighting off a blush while Mike just grinned next to him, “I’m still wearing my oxfords, see? My stuff got wet and Mike was kind enough to lend me some of his clothes when we got up this morning.”

Richie’s eyebrows rose so high they disappeared in his hairline. Then his eyes crinkled and he smirked. “When you got up this morning, you say? So we weren’t the only ones to enjoy the wedding night, huh Eddie?”

The others started laughing except Eddie, who hit him over the head with a menu.

“Beep beep, Richie.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for the lovely comments and kudos <3  
We'll be updating this series as fast as we can!


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